


we all have wings

by harukatenoh



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Game(s), major xter death is just game canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harukatenoh/pseuds/harukatenoh
Summary: A series of snapshots of ahappiercolderbloodierquieterlong gone time.





	we all have wings

**Author's Note:**

> me not posting world trigger fic for once... unprecedented. 
> 
> these aren't much of a story but have them anyway. work title is from we won't need legs to stand by sufjan stevens

_i. happier_

 

“Hi,” you say, cheerful as you wave at him. He stares at you. You try to hold his gaze, but it’s hard.

You elaborate with “I’m stuck,”. You leave the _again_ unsaid.

His gaze does not shift. The ledge that you’re sitting on feels less immovable than he is.

It’s been two hours or so. Usually, when you get into this situation, you warp home and pretend it never happened but this time…

This time, you had known he was in the area. You had known that he would find you eventually. He always does. And with the shining sun, the soft grass, and the rushing water, it hadn’t been that hard to stay put for a while.

“You could warp back,” he says, somehow sounding imposing and gentle at the same time.

You nod. “I could,” you concede. “There’s no rush.”

“The world will not wait for us,” he says. Oh.

You promptly fall back into the grass. You think about simple pleasures: watching the clouds move in the sky, hearing the word _us_ rendered so indomitable, taking the long way home.

You say “The world isn’t going anywhere, either,”

Endlessly used to your frivolity, he doesn’t say anything. He is right, as he tends to be, so you don’t dwell for long.

You stand up, brush yourself off. He is already watching you.

“Will you catch me?” You ask. He nods. You jump.

You jump, like you have before, knowing that you’ll fall just short of the other side of the ledge. Just short of the other side ledge and squarely into his arms. He barely reacts to the added weight.

He stares down at you, and aided on by the fact that you can’t—and won’t—escape, starts a lecture.

“Exploring does not necessitate this, you know,” he says, since _exploring_ had been your excuse last time. You smile, despite the fact that your mouth is covered, because you get the feeling he’ll know anyway.

He is not an expressive man, but the look in his eyes can only be considered exasperation. It makes you want to laugh, not a feeling you find very often anymore.

“Why do you do it?” He asks. “You know that it won’t yield anything,”

You shrug as best as you can, still nestled in his arms. “I like the certainty,”

He gives a short exhale, the equivalent of a laugh by his standards, and sets you down. “Let’s go,” he says.

You fall into step beside him, beaming.

 

_ii. colder_

 

The cloak sits heavily around your neck. It is warm and comfortable, protecting you from the chill of the rain, but it only furthers the cold lodged inside you. Your shoulders slump with its presence.

You think about him, carrying around all this weight for so long. You think about him, standing tall in the face of all odds. You think about him. You think about him. You think about him.

You'll probably never stop thinking about him.

You sigh. It is a shuddering, encompassing sound. The rain patters around you, and the machinery hums, and the wind howls, but everything is silent. Your grief renders it all silent.

Despite the meaning it holds and the memories it bears, you pull the cloak closer around you. You close your eyes and bury your face in the soft fur, breathing in its scent and willing your hands not to tremble.

They do, but there is nobody around to witness it. You are alone.

There is no one there for you anymore, and you have nothing more to do except keep going. It's what he would've done.

 

_iii. bloodier_

 

 _The world will not wait for us_ , he said. He was right, as he tended to be. The world, hungry for peace, rushed you towards the conclusion. Now, here, at the end of it all, you have all the time in the world and it lays at your feet, waiting.

The sun shines up above. The sky is so very blue. The air is clear. You look out on a world changed.

Simple pleasures, you think, as you fall backwards into the grass. The clouds move, unimpeded like they've never been before. There is no longer an _us_ ; there is barely a _you_ left now. The place you called home is long gone.

Still, maybe this is the simplest pleasure of them all. The simplest pleasure, the solitary gift, of being able to let go.

His cloak is around your shoulders. You wish you weren’t getting blood on it. His presence surrounds you and it swallows you up, welcomes you home. You close your eyes.

 

_iv. quieter_

 

The first thing you notice is the sound of fire. A quiet one, softly crackling somewhere beside you. It reminds you of something, but you don't know what.

The second is the sleeping bag around you. This too, rings familiar in your heart, but you've never been any good at understanding the organ. It pumps your blood, bringing you back, even when you aren't sure you want to be.

You open your eyes. It's an inevitability.

The most important thing you notice is that there is somebody sitting by the fire.

You are sitting up faster than you expected yourself to. He notices the movement. He is not wearing his helm. He is smiling.

Your heart beats, and for the first time in your life, it is out of your own volition.

You have so many things to say that they tangle up inside of you. You do not know how to phrase your relief, your hesitations, your fears. He seems to know this, because he stays silent and waits for you. Has he been waiting for you this entire time?

You want to ask but you don't know what the right question is. Is this real or is this a memory you have summoned? And at the end of it all, does it matter? Do you really want, or need, more?

Your mouth forms the question “Are you here?” and it is enough.

Smiling something fond and indulgent, like he knows the pointless turmoil you just went through, he nods.

“Yes, I'm here,” he answers.  Then, anticipating your next question, he says “I'm not going anywhere.”

When you get up, you move like you never have before, organic and natural and free. You fall into his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this fic, please consider donating to my ko-fi! it's linked in [my carrd](http://arashiyama.carrd.co) \- thank you so much if you do!


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